


as romans do

by youareiron_andyouarestrong



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dimension Travel, F/M, in every universe barry and iris are together, other Earths
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-19
Updated: 2016-11-19
Packaged: 2018-08-31 20:55:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8593339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youareiron_andyouarestrong/pseuds/youareiron_andyouarestrong
Summary: Iris and Barry travel to another Earth...and realize that the more they travel, the more some things stay the same.





	

For Iris’s first sojourn to another earth, it’s not going very well. 

And if she’s being entirely honest, Iris…can’t really tell the difference, actually, between this new Earth (they gotta start numbering these things) and the one she’s from, _Earth Prime,_ as Barry and Cisco refer to it as. Barry keeps insisting you can tell through the vibrations in the air and the feel of it, but Iris just takes his word for it. It’s got Starbucks and WiFi, she’s good to go.

“Do we get service on another earth?” she asks him, because this is a legitimate concern that _just_ occurred to her. Barry scrunches up his face in consideration. 

“I? Honestly don’t know,” he admits. “I didn’t exactly have my cell phone with me the last time I earth hopped.”

“How do I let you go anywhere without me,” Iris sighs. 

“You know, the suit really is quite unforgiving,” Barry replies with some mild indignation. “No pockets or convenient pouches or anything.”

Iris is deeply unimpressed _and_ unsympathetic. “Try practically every article of women’s clothing _ever.”_

“I fully acknowledge and admit to my pocket privilege,” Barry concedes, as they navigate the crowds of the– _not-_ Central City. “But don’t try calling anyone, just to be safe.”

Iris pats her jacket pocket, just to be sure that it’s there, not that it’s really going to do her much good. “So what happens if we meet our Earth…whatever this one is selves here? Are we going to create a paradox? Or a rip in the time-space continuum? What if we step on a butterfly and change the whole universe?”

“Okay, take a breath,” Barry advises, automatically letting her arm slip through his. “And that didn’t happen the last time I went to another Earth, or either time, actually.”

“You oughtta start charging admission,” Iris says, stepping a little closer to him. “Like Disneyland, but with more time and space.”

“I could make millions,” Barry says mock thoughtfully. “Pay off my student loans.” 

Iris snorts out a laugh, because this? All of this is crazy, just straight up _nuts._ But she’s with Barry and they’re navigating a new world together and things might be fine. They _will_ be fine.

“Where did you go, the last time you ended up on another Earth?” she asks.

“When I was on Earth-2, I went to S.T.A.R. Labs and then the station,” Barry says. “I tried to find the places that are familiar to me.”

“So let’s go,” Iris suggests.

* * *

Turns out the biggest difference on this Earth is the fact they get _recognized_ when they walk into the S.T.A.R. Labs. 

“Mr. West-Allen!” says a pretty, perky secretary, blinking behind thick framed glasses. “And–Mrs. West-Allen! Oh, you didn’t tell us you’d be coming by today!”

Iris feels Barry freeze at her side and good Lord, is this going to happen in _every_ Earth they go to? “Yes, sorry for this abruptness,” Iris says quickly, smoothly. “Just thought we’d stop by and..check in.”

The secretary beams. “Oh, well, you know the way to your offices? I’ll come by with your coffees.”

She darts away and Iris tightens her grip on Barry’s hand, they are each other’s anchors now. “Is there any earth we _aren’t_ married on?”

“I don’t think we’re _just_ married,” Barry whispers and nods toward the wall across from them. Iris risks a glance and immediately can’t stop staring. 

It’s _them_ on the wall, with the plaque _Our Founders_ underneath. _Their_ faces, smiling from thick, ornate frames, standing side by side, Barry’s arm around her waist. Barry’s wearing glasses with thin, round tortoiseshell frames and Iris’s hair is curlier than it normally is, but it’s unmistakably  _them._

“Holy crap,” Iris whispers, _“we_ founded S.T.A.R. Labs.”

She and Barry exchange wide-eyed glances, and Barry recovers first. He leads Iris quickly to the elevator and once they’re inside, they’re loudly and cheerfully greeted with, “Hello Mr. and Mrs. West-Allen!” 

“Okay,” Iris says, once they’re more or less safely in their (?) office. “So at least we know we’re not like, degenerates or something on this Earth.”

“Or awful people,” Barry adds, still looking slightly dazed. “And I thought Joe being a lounge singer was the strangest thing about Earth-2.”

There is the obvious thought here–their families and where they are right now on this Earth, and if either of them have both sets of parents, but Barry has learned caution by now; if he dimension hops he is much more careful about meddling in other Earths. The only difference for this one is that he didn’t have _Iris_ with him before. 

“Are you okay?” he asks immediately, anxiously. “Like–is the surreality hitting you yet or–?”

“I think I’m fine,” Iris says, and this is true, but it’s just _so weird_ to think about it, that’s there’s a reality where she and Barry are the ones who founded S.T.A.R. Labs and does this mean– “Are we responsible for the particle accelerator explosion?” Iris asks instantly. “I mean, are the timelines all similar? Or do they run differently and it hasn’t happened yet?”

Barry instantly goes to the computer on the desk, close enough to a Mac at home. “It’s probably password protected,” Iris says going over to him, but he types four characters into the space bar and is granted immediate access. Iris looks at him astonishment. “How did you–”

“I guessed it would be your name,” Barry admits, looking slightly sheepish. “If the computer was mine. I mean, we’re still the same person. This Barry and I.”

Iris shakes her head quickly, trying to dispel the surrealness of the thought. “You’re a sap,” she murmurs fondly regardless and points to the screen at an icon. “There. ‘Schedule.’” 

There’s fairly innocuous looking event on it, things like _charity_ and _meeting at Star City w/ Oliver_ and some meeting that has the names _Lunch w/_   _Diana Prince & Bruce Wayne (!!!) _highlighted in red. “Who’s Bruce Wayne?” Iris asks and Barry shrugs right back. “Someone I’m really excited about, apparently.” 

But there, at the end of the month, is the event _Particle Accelerator Opening_  in red also, and a small graphic of an atom. “It hasn’t happened yet,” Barry says softly. “The accelerator exploding. Or maybe it doesn’t happen at all, because Thawne isn’t here to mess with it.”

“So this Earth has no metas on it,” Iris murmurs. “Or maybe they get them some other way.”

“Do we tell them?” Barry asks. “I mean, is that something we should do?”

“I don’t know,” Iris says uncertainly. “I think that _definitely_ falls under the category of meddling, which is what we were doing the minute we assumed their identities.”

“You pick the worst times to be ethical,” Barry mutters and quickly exits out. “But I _do_ think we should warn them.”

“And tell them what? There’s the off-chance their lifelong achievement might explode and give the citizens of their city superpowers?” Iris demands.  “What if there’s no Flash on this earth and this how it happens for him or her?”

“What if there’s a _Thawne_ somewhere on this Earth out to get them?” Barry retorts and Iris bites her lip. Eddie was one thing, Eobard was another. 

“Okay,” she says. “Okay, yes, that bears some consideration, but—”

“You know what else bears _some consideration?_ ” demands a sharp voice from the doorway, and both Barry and Iris freeze and look up. 

It’s _them,_ their doppelgangers on this Earth, side by side and looking somewhere between furious, outraged and confused—though the confusion is mostly on the other Barry’s face, this Iris is the one who looks outraged and _wow,_ who knew she could rock a pair of heels that high? “I think it bears _some consideration,_ ” the other Iris goes on icily, “as in, who the hell are you two and what do you think you’re doing in _our office._ ” 

The other Barry quickly pulls his wife inside and shuts the door behind them. “Iris, sweetheart, calm down,” he says and something in Iris _jerks_ at the sound of the endearment in his voice, something _her_ Barry has said a thousand times to her in the exact same way. “It’s not good for you to be upset right now, you know this.”

“I think I have the right to be upset, Barry,” the other Iris says, voice still sharp enough to cut, “seeing as how there are two _imposters_ rifling through our office—” 

The other Barry’s eyes are sharp, studying them, and his voice is softer, quieter than her Barry’s natural speaking voice. “I don’t think they’re imposters, Iris,” he says slowly. “Seeing as how they look _exactly_ like us.”

Her Barry stands up straight beside Iris, his own gaze steady. She forgets, sometimes, how her Barry can carry himself with power, with authority, with _intent_ when it suits him. “I think if we’re anything alike,” he says carefully, “you know we can’t be imposters. It’s more like—”

“ _Doppelgangers_ ,” they say in one voice, the other Barry’s face lighting up with a huge, purely delighted grin and the other Iris still staring suspiciously at them both. “What do you know about alternate universes?” Barry asks the other them.

“Oh please,” says the other Iris impatiently. “ _Everyone_ knows about alternate universes. That’s what the particle accelerator is for, so we can start exploring them. That doesn’t prove anything—”

Barry raises his right hand. It starts to vibrate, giving off lightning around his fingertips. The other them freeze now, eyes going wide and wider still. “Trust me,” says her Barry seriously, “we’re not here to harm you or anything that you do, and we’re definitely not imposters. We’re here to—well, the original intent was to just explore, like you intend to. But we think we should give you _some_ kind of warning.”

“Warning of what?” the other Barry asks and Iris steps forward.

“On our Earth,” she says, “there was a particle accelerator too. It exploded though, and released a wave of dark matter through our city. It caused a lot of damage and it gave people—powers. Gifts. Abilities. My Barry was hit by a bolt of lightning during that explosion, and it gave him—speed.”

The other Iris stares at her Barry, brow furrowed, an expression Iris recognizes. “So—just how fast _are_ you?”

Her Barry flashes out of sight for a second, a blur of golden and red lightning. He comes back in instant later, two cups of coffee in his hand. The other Barry makes a strangled noise of shock and the other Iris takes a step back, one hand falling protectively on her husband’s arm, the other on her belly, the gesture unmistakable. Iris tries not to let that thought derail her completely, that on this Earth, not only are they _married,_ they’re also expecting a child.  She wonders if Barry noticed and decides not to point it out. They have enough to think about right now. 

“We’re not planning to stay long,” she says into the astonished silence after her Barry’s display of speed. “And please believe it wasn’t our intention to masquerade as you either. But we just thought you should know—there’s a _chance_ that your particle accelerator might explode and make people of your city into what we call meta-humans. It may happen—it might not. But you should be prepared.”

The other Iris still looks shaken, but her voice is steady. “We have contingency plans in place for that possibility, and our best scientists working around the clock for that. Cisco and Eobard—”

“Eobard? Eobard _Thawne_?” her Barry demands and it takes all of Iris’s self-control not to flinch at the barely leashed intensity to his voice. 

The other them eye him warily. “I—yes,” the other Iris says slowly. “Eobard Thawne is one of our best scientists and one of the closest friends of our family.  Why, do you know—”

“On my Earth,” Barry says harshly, “he killed my mother.”

 “Oh,” says the other Iris faintly and the other Barry shakes his head in vehement disbelief. “No, that’s impossible, Eobard would _never—”_ he protests but her Barry cuts him off. 

“Just be careful,” he says, half ferociously, half pleadingly. “I’ve been to other Earths and I know the people I meet aren’t always the same as the ones I know, but they _are_. And all I’m asking is that you _please_ watch out for Thawne. _Especially_ if he’s been working on the particle accelerator. _Please.”_

The other them exchanged silent, worried glances with each other; it’s like they’re having a conversation in a second with only a look. “Cisco _has_ mentioned Eobard’s been acting strangely lately,” the other Iris says this as if this is not something she wants to admit. “And he hasn’t let anyone see his notes.”

“But he’s always been secretive about his work—” the other Barry begins to say but the other Iris shakes her head.“He wouldn’t let _you_ read it,” the other Iris points out. “And he’s _never_ been so erratic about his reports before. And he _threw_ something at Wally the other day!”

The other Barry winces as he recalls it. “He and Wells have been at each other’s throats more and more lately. It’s throwing everyone’s work off.”

Barry and Iris hold their breath and without thought, Iris reaches for her Barry’s hand only to find he’s already reaching for hers. His grip is strong and warm and sure. 

The other Iris and Barry exchange one more look full of silent communication and then turn back to them. “We will take what you said into consideration,” says the other Iris firmly. “But in the meantime—”

“Can’t they stay?” asks the other Barry and the two Irises say together emphatically, “ _No._ ” They exchange startled glances. “Thank you,” says the other Iris finally. “Can I ask—? What do the two of you do, on your Earth?”

“I’m an investigative reporter,” Iris says. “Barry— _my_ Barry—is a CSI.” 

“I majored in journalism,” says the other Iris wonderingly. “And communications. That’s why Barry named me the co-CEO of S.T.A.R. Labs, because I knew how to reach people—”

“Do you write? Still?” asks Iris. It seems vitally important that she knows this about her other self.

“Not as much as I would like,” the other Iris says. A familiar glint of determination appears in her eyes. “Maybe I should get back to that.”

“You _should,_ ” Iris agrees and feels, for the first time, that this isn’t a stranger with her face, it’s simply another facet of herself she hasn’t explored yet. 

* * *

Back on Earth-Prime, in Barry’s apartment, on his bed, tangled up in him, Iris rests her chin on his chest, looks up at him. They’d been desperate, almost frantic upon returning, as if they were trying to imprint themselves on the other, like they were trying to prove something, that this was _theirs_ and no one else’s and it could not be taken away from them.

“Do you think we did the right thing?” she asks softly; her voice is more fragile than she would like. “Telling them?”

Barry sighs, the gust of air stirs her hair away from her face. “I don’t know,” he admits quietly, unsure. “I _hope_ so. We gave them fair warning, which is more than we ever got. When I was on Earth-2, it was like looking at everything I ever wanted and didn’t even know I wanted until that moment. But I interfered and you know—you know what happened then.” 

Iris nods, tightens her grip on Barry, just a little. “Do you think—did you notice—the way she—”

“They’re going to have a baby,” Barry confirms, his voice so quiet now Iris almost doesn’t hear him, but there is such an _ache_ to it she feels it in her bones. “It’s—it’s nice to know that at least on _one_ Earth we’ve got it pretty together.”

 “We’re pretty together over here too,” Iris reminds him, giving his ribs a gentle poke. 

“We’re doing alright,” Barry agrees and rolls them over so she’s underneath him, so he can look at her, trace her features with the very tips of his fingers, like she’s glass and she might shatter with a touch. “This is the second pair of doppelgangers of ourselves that we’ve met and they’ve _both_ been married. Should we take it as a sign?”

Iris gives him a Look. “ _You_ might move faster than the rest of us Barry, but _I_ don’t move _that_ fast.”

“Admittedly, we’ve had alternate timelines to deal with,” Barry points out and buries his face in the crook of her neck. “I still want to marry you.”

Iris wonders how this is her life, alternate realities and timelines, doppelgangers and speedsters and an impossible boy, wanting to marry her so easily it’s like breathing. “Let’s see how it goes for a year,” she murmurs; a compromise. “Then we’ll talk again. And _no_ time traveling.” 

Barry ducks his head, kisses the place where her heart beats, lets his mouth travel up her chest, her throat, her neck and then to her mouth, soft and deep and lingering. “I can wait,” he says into her mouth and his smile is lightning.  


End file.
